Cry Old Kingdom by Jeff Augustin

Transcription

1 Cry Old Kingdom by Jeff Augustin

2 Characters Edwin Early/Mid 30s Haitian Man Henri Marx Early 20s Haitian Man Judith Late 20s/Early 30s Haitian Woman Setting Haiti 1964 A home in a small village and a remote section of the beach, both are a couple of hours from Port Au Prince. Note: A silent moment when a character reveals or holds back a truth. A time when language is too much or not enough / The words/the thought connected have the same rhythm, cadence 2

3 For the flag, For our country To die is a fine thing! Our past cries out to us: Have a strong soul! To die is a fine thing, For the flag, For our country. - Final refrain of La Dessalinienne, the Haitian National Anthem 3

4 Scene One (The Beach near sunset. is checking the sturdiness, weight capacity & floatability of different types of wood. He is an Adonis. His body is agile & regal, his movement fluid, yet weighted/heavy. A moment. enters unnoticed. He watches. He seems hypnotized by S figure and movement. A few moments) There are easier ways to die ( startled spins around. smiles at him. HENRI MARX takes him in a beat) Macoutes don t come to this part of the beach But there are eyes. And eyes speak because eyes get threatened. Eyes get hungry And your eyes? My eyes. My eyes are silent. They see and wonder. Nothing more. And your eyes? (A slight beat) They are focused only on me They seem gentle They are to most To new friends? I don t make many To family friends? 4

5 Do you know my family? Your face is familiar It s the young we all make the same nasty faces ( smiles/chuckles) You re not that much younger than me The old are getting younger If only that were true Going somewhere? No The wood? Collecting debris Ah, I didn t realize you worked for the regime. You re not wearing the uniform I didn t say I worked for the regime So collecting trash is a hobby? Excuse me the sun will set soon, don t want to worry my mother ( is leaving without the wood) 5

6 You re forgetting your wood It s not mine People Anse-a-Foleur Excuse me? Your family is from Anse-a-Foleur It s your face. The wide slight uneven angles of your nostrils. The weight of your cheek bones and lengthening of your skin. The bruised melon shape of your head. The roughness of your skin. Like mine. Although, my cheeks have lost their weight. What s your family name? It s okay. My family is from Anse-a-Foleur. Maybe you know my great aunt. Dominique. Idline Marie Dominique. She runs the grammar school Yes We used to try to get her down to Port Au Prince, but she loves her people too much. I rarely get up there. It s been ten years maybe. Your age I think. Picked her up for my mother s funeral. Took two days. Was she your teacher? Yes, fourth and fifth year 6

7 She s strict, quick to strike if you re not prepared. But maybe you were better than I Mostly You look like you are. What s your family name? Pierre Arlan s brother? Yes (smiling) You I don t remember, but Arlan I do. Before my mother & I left we were schoolmates. He used to stutter. My great aunt tried to beat it out of him She did How is he? Dead Sorry It s not your fault And your mother and father, how are they doing? Papa died, it s just me and my mother That s hard 7

8 Yes What s your name? I ll tell your Aunt you said hello No name, your parents are smart. My parent s were foolish. I have the name of a fool, Edwin Jean Dominique. Her famous painter Ah, she talked about me. Only good things I hope Aren t you dead? It s a good death Is there such a thing? Yes. I am still breathing and yet the rest of the world believes I am dead, buried six feet under the earth. How is that possible? Artist s faces no one knows. Journalists/politicians, you know. Faces everywhere. Artists can sneak into small villages in the night & live mostly underground. They can escape during sunset through back wood paths, to remote locations, when everyone is too busy paying attention to the sun and looking out for the boogeymen to pay attention to everyday figures. But you seem to understand that I don t understand why you don t leave 8

9 I can t dream inspiration. I like to paint my people. Let me paint you (A bit of confusion/intrigue) My mother can t be alone at night Does it not still take two days to get back? I don t want to be a part of your politics I don t have politics Isn t that why you re dead? No. Misinterpretation is why I m dead I m honored, but I can t Where will you stay? With a friend A lover? 9

10 I m sorry, it s a rough trip to make on your own I m not going on a trip It s alright you ll find another woman I ve never been with a woman So you have nowhere to build your boat? I m not building a boat It s fine. You can build your boat in my studio ( turns to exit) I found you this time. What will happen when those other eyes do? You re a brute, young, and bitter. Eyes find those things And if those eyes find you with me? Your boat would be the least of my worries You know my name. What s yours? (A moment) Henri Marx A good name (A moment) 10

11 You can t draw my face I m not interested in your face Alright, we re in agreement Good. We ll start tonight 11